


the lion and the wolf

by redluna



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breathplay, Dom/sub Undertones, Inquisitor Carver Hawke, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4959454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redluna/pseuds/redluna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Cullen and Dorian both want the Inquisitor–and they take what they want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the lion and the wolf

**Author's Note:**

> [From this tumblr prompt](http://redxluna.tumblr.com/post/130768812575/youre-mine-you-hear-me-for-that-dark-au-we) that was inspired by a friend's interpretation of [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUdk5qp-cwg&index=6&list=FLNKD8w1s8cKQ-owscxAgltQ).

There was no denying that Carver Hawke had…changed. For one thing, he sported the surname Trevelyan, although he still clearly hadn’t adjusted to lying low. He responded slower to the name, outright snorting when a visiting dignitary had attached “lord” to it. He had had enough grace to meld the motion into a cough, however, which had been a surprise in and of itself.

The Carver that Cullen remembered had been rash with the haste to prove himself, sharp tongued even to his superiors. Although Cullen couldn’t deny that he had been somewhat envious of the way the boy had dared to back talk Meredith even then, planting evidence all suspected had to be false to keep his brother and his associates safe.

The Carver of now wasn’t quite the lordling everyone expected, but he was close, even if he still fumbled over his social graces from time to time. He was still as acidic as ever, yet that seemed more than a well earned wariness than anything else. He was determined to help if for no other reason than the relief of seeing others safe instead of the glory he had hoped to claim before.

Yes, those were the developments that Cullen  _should_  have been paying attention to. Most certainly not in how time had rendered Carver’s once gangly limbs toned, broadening out his shoulders even more. Even his voice seemed to rumble out with a deeper tone to it.

Yet none of this stopped him from snapping to attention whenever Cullen turned his gaze on him. And it took little more than a few warm words for him to return to that bright eyed, eager boy from the days of Templar training. Still so desperate to prove himself; to Cullen at the very least.

Truth be told, he had been doing a rather good job of suppressing his desires until Dorian took it upon himself to intervene.

“I simply don’t see what the problem is.” Dorian flicked a knight that Cullen had been too distracted to bother defending off the board, expression growing more devious by the second. “It would little issue to take what it is you want.” He leaned back in his chair, legs sprawled out in a way that was far too graceful for such disarray. “After all, wait too long and you’ll be left to discover that another has snatched up your offering.”

Cullen knew he was being baited, but that didn’t stop him from snapping up from his chair or his hands from slamming down hard enough onto the table to send the chess pieces rolling to the ground. “You wouldn’t–”

“Oh, I never said it would be, Commander.” Cullen wanted to knock that smirk off of Dorian’s face. Or bite it away. Sometimes it all got disturbingly muddled. “Perhaps the Lady Seeker? Or our dear ambassador? Why I believe even the Iron Bull has been seeking out a way to make a claim.” He tipped his head to the side, eyes far too knowing for comfort. “I believe the saying is the same here as it is back home: better the demon you know than the one you don’t?”

* 

There was a plan, of course. There were too many people who made it their duty to keep their eyes trained on the Inquisitor for there not to be one.

The tavern was the ideal place to start and not simply due to the fact that it was the easiest way for Dorian to get Carver suitably tipsy. It was that there, one could count on Sera to arrange an elaborate prank with suitably little nudging, meaning that everyone’s hands would be far too full with cleaning up to pay much notice to Dorian guiding Carver out of the tavern and back up to his chambers.

By the time Cullen managed to arrive, having convinced both Josephine and Leliana that he would be taking resting or his duties that night, Dorian had already managed to get Carver half of the way there. Vest, gloves, and boots were littered across the floor while Dorian had hiked Carver’s shirt upwards to explore the skin there with his mouth.

“There you are,” Dorian said. “I was starting to worry that all this had been for naught.”

“C–Commander? What are you doing–” Carver’s attempts to sit up, however, where brought to an abrupt halt when Dorian bit down on a nipple.

“Now, now, dear boy, you really should just play along.” Dorian circled his tongue around the abused flesh until Carver whimpered then leaned back to admire his handiwork. “You are a greedy little thing, are you not? So why turn down the chance to have all that your heart desires?”

“This isn’t… I don’t…” Carver’s head jerked back, teeth slamming hard around a moan as Dorian stroked him through his trousers. “I’m not just some thing for you to use.”

“Of course not.” Cullen had taken advantage of the exchange to strip out of his fur lined cloak and armor. The boots were left to be tugged off when he sat down on the bed at least. “This is simply the process of making you ours.”

“Indeed,” Dorian hummed. “So it would behold you to be your very best behavior for us.”

“Alright.” There was a small wrinkle between Carver’s brows, the same that would occur when he was trying to focus on achieving a particularly difficult trick Bull had tried teaching him. “I… I think I can do that.”

“There we are.” Dorian pressed a kiss to the small patch of skin behind Carver’s ear as a reward, prompting a shiver from the boy. “Now I think our Commander wishes to go first. He has, after all, been waiting the longest.”

Cullen barely waited for Carver’s somewhat hesitant nod before letting his fingers take hold of the boy’s chin, angling him up to be kissed. He relished in the groan that was swallowed up with a swipe of his tongue and even more so that Carver left his hands tangled in the sheets, knowing without asking that he should wait for permission.

He might have been too busy to witness it, but he knew that Dorian must have succeeded in getting Carver’s trousers and small clothes off from the small sound of triumph he heard. What he didn’t expect to see when he raised his head was Dorian slicking his fingers up with a canister of oil that he must have brought with him.

The glazed look to Carver’s eyes began to fade when he noticed that Cullen was distracted. “What…” He bucked at the first press of Dorian’s fingers, squirming to raise himself up. “What are you doing–” He gasped at the fingers that curved around his neck, holding him down to the bed. 

“At ease,” Cullen said. “You need to be relaxed for him to prepare you.” He rubbed his thumb over the jump of Carver’s pulse as the boy did as he was told. He didn’t try to stop the little noises that escaped from Carver as Dorian worked, however, even if some were suppressed by the boy’s determination to keep his teeth locked to his bottom lip.

“There we are.” Carver gasped when Dorian pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock before moving away. “I would say he’s ready for you, Commander.”

Cullen knew he should give Carver a moment to brace himself or to catch his breath, at the very least, but that was near to impossible when the boy in question was gazing up at him with all the fervor of one about to receive the benediction. Dorian had done his work well, besides, so that it only took one hand clasped to Carver’s hip to help guide himself inside. The other hand stayed locked around Carver’s throat, leaving him pinned to the bed and gasping under the force of each thrust.

Dorian, meanwhile, had settled himself down by Carver’s side, fingers sliding through his hair in a gesture that would have seemed comforting if not for the lewd smile on his face. “I knew you could manage it,” he said. “All you needed was a bit of encouragement and our Commander is certainly that, isn’t he?” His smile curved wider when Carver actually tried to answer, only to release a strangled sound instead when the head of Cullen’s cock slammed hard against his prostate. “There’s something missing, however… Ah, yes!”

It was hard for Carver’s hands to get a grip against the sweat slicked expanse of Cullen’s shoulders even with Dorian placing them just so, but once they did the fingers dug in hard, pressing Cullen down all the harder against him.

“Cullen, please, I want to… Cullen!”

The sound of his name, gasped out like that, was more than enough to topple Cullen over the edge, although he was subject to the clucking of Dorian’s tongue when he came back down.

“Now, now, Commander, you left our boy bereft!” He flopped back onto the bed with an exaggerated sigh. “Best to pass him over, don’t you think?”

Cullen chucked, using what was left of his strength to hoist Carver over to straddle Dorian’s hips, feeling the boy buck anew as he pressed up against his back.

Dorian didn’t give Carver much of a chance to control the pace, hands gripping onto the boy’s thighs, but it was quick work for both of them.

At least for that round.

*

It was fairly obvious to everyone that the Inquisitor was in quite a state. He had squirmed throughout the judgements lined up for that day, always having to find some new position on the throne. He had flushed at Josephine’s quiet offer to bring a pillow, however, swearing it was unnecessary. Yet even when he got up to walk away, his legs shook beneath him for a moment or two like a newborn colt trying to discover its footing.

It wasn’t until Carver got close enough, however, that Varric saw what the real problem was.

“Andraste’s  _ass_ , kid, who got ahold of you?” Varric sighed when Carver only blinked at him, gesturing up towards the kid’s neck. Which was when that blush returned in full force.

“It’s nothing!” Carver struggled to pull the collar of his shirt up higher, rearranging his scarf with a huff. “Just a bit of roughhousing. Honestly, it’s not like I got any worse with Garrett.”

“You sure about that?” Varric probed. “Because I’m pretty damn certain that you’re brother never left a ring of bruises around your neck.”

A scowl slammed over Carver’s face. “It’s  _nothing_ , Varric,” he said. “And you can pass that along to my brother just like you do everything else.”

Except Dorian was waiting by the large doors to loop an arm around his waist, leading him down towards the Commander, who had no business being out of his office with a look that sly.

Nah, Varric wouldn’t be writing to Garrett. At least not first.


End file.
